


Crossing the Line

by AGJ1990



Series: Evelyn Winchester [47]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort/Angst, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Protective Bobby Singer, Winchester Daughter, Winchester Sister, dean's an awesome big brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 16:48:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14919170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGJ1990/pseuds/AGJ1990
Summary: Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me. The original character of Evelyn Winchester does.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me. The original character of Evelyn Winchester does.

Never before had John wished so badly that one of his children would misbehave.

            The problem, of course, was that it just wasn’t in Evy’s nature to misbehave. Where Sam had been rebellious, she was submissive. Where Sam had been outspoken, she was quiet. When Sam would explode, John would have a reason to get upset, to snap at him, to come down hard on him. But for the last six days, ever since Sam had walked out the door to go to Stanford, Evy had been even quieter than normal. She would daydream, staring off into space, and seemed to be barely restraining herself from crying. John was waiting for her to start crying. He knew it made him a bastard, but if Evy started crying, he’d finally have half an excuse to scold her and take at least some of his frustration out on something. He remembered well the words he’d told her five days earlier, when she’d been crying for Sam for nearly twelve hours straight.

_Enough! Sam is gone, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Keep crying and I’ll give you a reason to cry._

            Of course, as was her nature, Evy had done nothing other than sniffle, quietly say ‘Yes, sir. Sorry, Daddy’, and blow her nose. Ever since, she’d been writing or drawing in that notebook, one of what felt like hundreds that Sam had given her. Digging deep, John realized exactly what it was about Evy now that he found so frustrating. She hadn’t smiled in over a week. Ever since Sam had announced he was leaving. Ever since the fight where John had told him that if he left, he wasn’t to come back. She was just so sad, and it pissed John off. If anyone had the right to be upset or angry right then, it was him.  John tried to chase all those thoughts out as he walked into the house, the alcohol he’d drunk at the bar already beginning to lose its effectiveness.

            John walked in to find Evy spread out on the coffee table. Her journal was on one end of the table, her box of broken and whole crayons in front of her, and a notebook. She was drawing in the notebook, and was so focused on what she was doing that her tongue stuck out of one side of her mouth and she didn’t hear John come in. _Good a time as any_ , John thought, slamming the door so loud behind him that it rattled in the doorframe. Evy jumped and stared at her father with wide, frightened eyes.

“Hi, Daddy.” She said cautiously.

“Didn’t I tell you to always pay attention to everything going on around you?” John barked.

“S…Sorry, sir.” Evy stuttered.

John had prepared an entire lecture, but the growing headache made it hard for him to focus enough to do it. “Just don’t do it again.”  
“Yes, sir.”

“What are you doing?” John asked.

“Just colorin’.” Evy answered.

John’s anger and frustration overrode his brain yet again. “It’s too much of a distraction. You need to start training.”   
“Yes, sir.” Evy answered quietly. “I’ll put it away.”

Evy started to pick up her things, and John got a glimpse at the picture she had been working on. In the middle was a heart, with two arrows coming out of the left and right side. The arrow on the left was pointing to a tall stick figure wearing a green shirt and brown jacket, and the one on the right was pointing to a smaller stick figure wearing a blue summer dress. On the bottom was a note that read ‘Love you Sammy xoxo Cricket’. John felt his headache get slightly worse, and he finally lost his patience with Evy’s pining for Sam.

“Evelyn Abigail, I’m only going to tell you this one more time. Stop crying for Sam.”

Confused, Evy stopped picking up her crayons. “Daddy?”   
“You heard what I said.”   
“I…But…I wasn’t crying.” Evy feebly argued.

“Don’t talk back to me, little girl.” John snapped. “Do you understand me?”   
“Daddy, I’m sorry. Please don’t yell at me.”   
“Don’t…” John couldn’t believe Evy’s gall. “I’ll show you yelling, little girl.” He moved quickly, gathering up Evy’s journal, her crayons, and snatching the notebook out of her hand.

“Daddy?” Evy asked, scared and unable to stoop her shaking voice now. “What are you doing?”

With no remorse at all, John took everything in his hands and threw it into the kitchen garbage bag.

“Daddy, please don’t…” Evy begged, tears now starting to flow down her cheeks. “I was gonna send that to Sammy.”   
He had to stoop down to do it, but John grabbed Evy’s arm hard enough she was wincing from the pain. “I won’t say it again. You need to make yourself understand. Sam is gone. He is no longer a member of this family.”   
“No! Daddy, that’s not true.” Evy said, pushing at his arm, even though she was no match for her much bigger and stronger father.

“Don’t argue with me. Sam left me, Dean, and you. If he cared about us, he would never have left.”   
“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Evy shouted, angry and not caring anymore about getting in trouble with him. “That’s not true, Sammy still cares about me.”

John’s hand squeezed tighter around Evy’s arm, making her whimper in pain and squeal ‘ow’, and he was just about to say something else when…

“DAD! Let her go!”   

John was so startled at the sudden and unexpected intruder that he dropped Evy’s arm. Later he would realize just how hypocritical it truly was to yell at Evy for not paying attention to her surroundings when he was doing the same. It was, of course, not an intruder, but Dean, and the second John’s fingers were off her arm, she ran to Dean sobbing. Dean picked her up and held her, shushing her and rubbing her back to try and calm her down.

“It’s okay, baby girl. I got you.” Dean glared at John over Evy’s shoulder. “What happened?”   
“Dean…”   
“Where’s your coloring stuff, kiddo?” When Evy’s crying picked up in intensity, Dean put the pieces together. “Dad, you should take a walk.”

“Dean, watch your tone, boy.” John growled.

“Dad, take a walk yourself or I take one with her. Take your pick.” Dean said.

            John was pissed at being told what to do, but the look on Dean’s face made him think twice about commenting on it again. Evy clung to Dean’s neck, shaking and weeping. Dean sat down with her on the raggedy old chair that had come with the house, rocking her and whispering to her things like ‘It’ll be okay’ and ‘I’ve got you, baby girl’. John glared at them for a moment, then picked up the garbage bag where he’d thrown Evy’s journal, notebook, and crayons away and headed towards the truck.

            The next few minutes were a blur. John wasn’t completely sober, but like a hawk closing in on its prey, he found another bar. He parked the truck and started to head inside, when he suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to look at Evy’s journal and notebook. He was grateful as he pulled them out that he had used a new bag. He started with the journal. On the front cover was written her name, ‘Evy Winchester’, and various drawings of smiley faces, balloons, and polka dots. He flipped open the journal and what anger he was feeling immediately started to be replaced by guilt. Rather than the date headings that John expected to see, there were prompts. He recognized them as being written in Sam’s writing. When John started to read Evy’s answers to two of the prompts, he felt sick to his stomach.

_What makes you sad?_

It makes me sad when no matter how good I try to be, Daddy still yells at me or makes me feel bad.

It makes me sad that I can’t tell Daddy when I’m sad or unhappy because he’ll just tell me to stop crying or get over it. With Sammy gone, I feel like I can’t talk to anybody. Dean tries to help, but he’s so busy with working and keeping Daddy from yelling at me too much that it’s hard to get any time with him.

It makes me sad that I don’t have a mommy to talk to when Daddy makes me feel sad. And now I don’t have a brother to talk to either. I’m all alone.

_What makes you happy?_

It makes me happy when Daddy hugs me without me having to ask for it, or when he’ll tell me he loves me and I can see he means it.

            _Son of a bitch_ , John thought. _What kind of bastard does it take when all my eight-year-old wants is for me to hug her and tell her that I love her?_ He knew the answer. It made him a huge bastard. Suddenly, John’s need to drink was gone, replaced with an overwhelming urge to go home and hug and kiss Evy until she couldn’t stand it anymore. On the way, he made a stop and purchased some items he would need to make up for what he’d done. Checking the clock, he saw that it was nearing Evy’s bedtime, so he quickly threw the truck in reverse and hightailed it back home.

            When he walked inside, Dean was coming out of the small back room that, until a week earlier, had belonged to both her and Sam. He left the door carefully ajar, and almost slammed into John as he started to walk back towards the living room. _Guess we all need a refresher course_ , John thought, then instantly felt ashamed. Dean was focusing on undoing the mess he’d created earlier. Instead of the harsh scolding he’d planned on, John asked softly,

“Is she okay?”

“Yes, sir. I just put her to sleep. After I iced down her arm.” Though Dean’s tone only held the slightest hint of anger, his eyes reminded John of a lion whose cubs were in danger.

“How bad is she hurt?” John asked.

“Bad enough she didn’t want to talk to Sam when he called.” Dean said. “I was about to call Bobby.”   
John would never admit it out loud, but he panicked. “Dean, please don’t.”  
            Four years earlier, Bobby and Dean had both threatened to take Evy from him if his rough treatment of her didn’t come to a screeching and abrupt halt. It had happened on a night much like tonight. Sam had run away, and after getting jealous of the bond she shared with Sam, John had spanked Evy hard and slapped her in the face by accident. The incident had left Evy terrified of him, and even though she’d forgiven him, it had damaged their relationship from that point forward. She was scared to approach him, even to say hello. And the events of earlier in the evening had certainly made the problem worse.

“Dad, you can’t keep doing this.” Dean said. “I know you’re not happy that Sam’s gone. But she didn’t do it. She’s trying to deal with it just like we are.”

“I know.”   
“Did you know that I had to talk Sam out of taking her with him? No I wish I hadn’t.” When John didn’t respond, Dean continued. “She wrote in that journal because she’s afraid to talk to you. Is that what you want?”

“No. It isn’t. I just…It’s hard to talk about it.” John said. “I have to take it on something.”

“So go grab a pillow and hit it. Or do push ups. Or go find an evil son of a bitch to kill. Anything that doesn’t involve yelling at baby girl and making her feel like crap.” Dean said. “Dad, she takes everything you say and do to heart. She’s trying so hard to just make you happy.”

“I know.” John said. When Dean raised a skeptical eyebrow, John replied, “I do. Please just don’t call Bobby.”   
Dean sighed. “We go to Bobby’s tomorrow. She’s still got two weeks before school starts. I won’t tell him, but if you do something like this again, especially while we’re there, it’s all up to Bobby.”   
“Agreed.” John said. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Dad, please calm down. I don’t want…” Dean paused, as if the weight fo what he wa s about to say was too much.

“Don’t want what, Dean?”   
“I don’t want to lose her, too.”   
_Like you lost Sam,_ John thought. The unspoken accusation hung heavy in the air between them. John was just about to respond when he heard something.

“Daddy?”   
            Evy was standing in the doorway, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. She was wearing one of Dean’s tshirts, which draped almost to her feet. She walked towards Dean and stood beside him, wrapping an arm around his leg, while Dean gently ran his fingers through her hair.   
“What are you doing up, kiddo?” Dean asked.

“I heard you two talking.” Evy said, her eyes never leaving Dean’s face. “You came back.”   
Another needle shot through John’s heart and soul at the pure astonishment on Evy’s face. “Yes, I did. I came to talk to you.”

Evy released Dean’s leg and gripped his hand. “About what?”   
John almost wept at the fact that she needed Dean’s support just to have a conversation with him. “Will you come to the living room with me? Please?”

Evy squeezed Dean’s hand and looked up. “You’ll come too, right?”

“You bet I will, kiddo.” Dean said. “Let’s go.”   
            Once they were seated, John on the couch and Evy in Dean’s lap, John spotted it. On Evy’s right arm, five dark colored spots that perfectly matched his fingers. _Bruises_ , John thought, fighting the urge to vomit. He really had gripped her harder than he realized. The thought of what could have happened if Dean hadn’t come home when he did surfaced, but John banished it.

“Little one, I’m sorry about earlier.” John said. “I know I hurt you, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Evy seemed shocked at the apology and looked down at the floor.

“I brought you something to show you I mean it.”

            John handed Evy the bag from Kmart. Evy looked inside it and gasped. She pulled out her notebook and journal. But the biggest surprise was at the bottom of the bag. A brand new box of 120 crayons, a box of 64 markers, and a third box filled with 100 colored pencils. There was also a sketchbook, a few new notebooks, and a box to keep them all in.

“What’s all this for?” Evy asked. “I thought you said it was a waste.”   
“It’s not if it makes you happy.” John answered. “Or at least helps you be less sad.”

“Daddy? I’m sorry if I did anything that made you mad.” Evy said.

“You didn’t, little one. I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself and…”

“What, Daddy?” Evy asked.

“I’m sad, little one.” John admitted. “I miss Sammy too. And I don’t always know how to say it, so it comes out like I’m mad. Does that make sense?”

“I think so.” Evy said. She looked back into the bag and smiled. “Thank you for my new coloring stuff.”

“You’re welcome, little one.” When Evy yawned, John suggested, “Why don’t you go to bed?”   
“Yes, sir.” After a quick hug and kiss with Dean, Evy pulled a page out of her notebook and handed it to John. “I made this for you. To keep in your pocket while you hunt.”

John looked at the drawing and smiled. It was a rainbow, with a note below it that read ‘Love you, Daddy. -Evy’.

“I know there’s a lot of scary stuff when you’re on the road. I thought you’d like something pretty to look at for when you’re not having a good day.” Evy explained.

“It’s beautiful, little one.” John said sincerely. “Thank you.”   
“Daddy? I heard Deanie say we were going to uncle Bobby’s tomorrow. Will you do something with me before we go?”

“What is it?” John asked.    
Evy held up the bag. “Draw with me?”

            John had trouble expressing his feelings. He had trouble talking without barking orders. He had trouble connecting on a meaningful level with any of his kids. But spend an hour drawing? Especially when it would make his kid happy? That he could do. That he had no trouble with.

“I can do that, little one.”   
            Evy’s grin immediately transported John back nearly ten years, to Sam being nine and finding out he was having a baby brother or sister. Evy looked so much like Sam when she smiled that it made John’s heart ache for his baby boy all over again.

“Love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, little one. Go on, go back to bed.” After Evy was asleep, John walked in and kissed her cheek. “Good night, little one. Daddy loves you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Bobby wasn’t an idiot. He’d known the second Dean had called the night before that something was up. But he decided to wait until they showed up to ask anything. The next day, a little after lunch, the Impala and John’s truck pulled up, and Bobby had barely opened the front door when he was nearly knocked down by a fifty pound, three feet eleven inch rocket known as Evy.

“Uncle Bobby!”

“Hey, Baitfish!” Bobby said, recovering his balance and hugging her close. “How you doing?”

“I’m good.” Evy said.

 _She’s cheerful enough,_ Bobby thought. Maybe they really were just here for a break before she started school. Once Bobby put down Evy, though, he saw it. Five bruises on her arm, in the shape of someone grabbing her and holding her arm in a death grip. Evy grabbed her bag and asked with a smile if she could go in and get some ice cream. Bobby told her to go put her stuff in her room, deciding to wait until she was asleep that night to say anything to John and Dean. The time came quick enough. Evy got a bath, changed into PJs, and watched a movie in Bobby’s living room with Dean as John and Bobby shot small talk in the kitchen. Sam called around 8:30. Evy talked to him. Bobby noted she had to assure Sam she was fine, that she’d just had a stomachache the night before and went to bed early. _Bull_ , Bobby thought. _That kid wouldn’t go to sleep if she won a million dollars for it._ She finally hung up with Sam and yawned.

“Bedtime, kiddo.” Dean said gently.  
“’Kay.” Evy said. “Uncle Bobby, will you tuck me in?”

“Sure thing, Baitfish. Go on up, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“’Kay.” Evy said. She got up and kissed Dean and John’s cheek. “Good night, Daddy. Night, Deanie. Love you.”   
“Good night, kiddo. Love you too.”   
“Good night, little one.”

            Bobby followed Evy up the stairs to her room. She climbed into the bed, snuggled under her blanket, and couldn’t stop smiling when Bobby agreed to read her a chapter out of the book she was working on. Finally, Bobby couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Baitfish, I need to ask you something. And I want you to tell me the truth, okay?”

“Okay.” Evy said.

“What happened to your arm?”

Evy got quiet and bit her bottom lip, the sure sign she didn’t want to talk. “I don’t want to say.”   
“Why not?” Bobby asked.

“’Cause you’ll be mad.” Evy answered.

“Not at you.” Bobby said. “Did something bad happen?”   
“I don’t want to tell you.” Evy said again. “Please don’t make me.”  
“How about this? How about I guess, and you just nod if I’m right. Then you didn’t tell me. I guessed.” Bobby asked, almost desperately; Evy was just as smart, if not smarter, than Sam had been, and he honestly didn’t think his ploy would work.   
“I guess so.” Evy said.

Bobby restrained himself from cheering for joy. “Alright, good. Now, what I think happened is, your daddy got mad at something. He came in, was real unhappy, maybe yelled at you, and grabbed your arm real hard and tight. Am I right?”

Evy nodded and whispered, “Yes, sir. You’re right.”   
“Are you afraid of something, Baitfish? Come on, you can talk to me.”   
“Are you gonna take me away from Daddy?” Evy asked.

Bobby sighed and decided to be honest to be with her. “It crossed my mind.”

“Please don’t, uncle Bobby. He didn’t mean it.”   
“Baitfish, listen to me. Your daddy ain’t got no right to hurt you. Not for any reason. And I’m gon’ make sure he figures that out.” Bobby said.

“But if you take me away from him, Deanie’ll leave him too. Then daddy’ll be all alone. Please don’t do it.”

 _Damn it, Winchester, you don’t deserve these kids. Especially this one,_ Bobby thought. “Alright, Baitfish. I won’t take you from your daddy. Yet. But the three of you are staying here for a while. And when you leave, I want to hear from you every night. No exceptions. You hear me?”

“I hear you, uncle Bobby.”

“Baitfish, are you scared of your Daddy?” Bobby asked.

Evy bit her lip again. “Sometimes. And with Sammy gone, it feels like if Dean’s not there, I don’t have anybody.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Bobby said. “Are you afraid of me?”

Evy smiled. “No.”  
“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.” Evy said, wondering where he was going with all this.

“So just trust me now. Okay?”   
“Okay, uncle Bobby. I will.” Evy said. She looked around and realized something was missing. “Will you hand me Squish, please? He’s on the dresser.”   
Bobby turned behind him and grabbed the raggedy, battered old cat off the dresser. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, unca Baby.” Evy said as she yawned, briefly taking Bobby back to the days of when she’d just started talking.

“Go to sleep, Baitfish.” Bobby said, pulling her blanket up towards her chest. “Hey, I gotta tell you somethin’.”

“What is it?”   
“I think I love you, little girl.” Bobby said with a grin.

“I think I love you too.”

“Good night.” Bobby said.

“Night night.” Evy said, already drifting off to sleep.

            Bobby stood up, swore quietly that ‘I’ma take care of this, Baitfish’, and started back towards the living room. On the way, he stopped in his own room and pulled a small shotgun out from under his bed. Checking it was loaded, he brought it to the living room with him and barely paused before expertly sticking the shotgun mere inches from John’s face.

“Bobby, what the hell?” John and Dean said, almost in sync.

“Where did the bruises come from?” Bobby asked.

“What bru…”   
“Do _not_ play games with me. The bruises on her arm. Where did they come from?”

“What did she tell you?” John asked.

“Nothin’.” Bobby said through clenched teeth. “In fact, she made it a point _not_ to tell me. Because she’s afraid if she does, if I move her in here with me, that you’ll end up all alone.”

John looked up and stared, mouth gaping open in shock. Even after hurting Evy, she still wanted to be there for him. Make him feel like he had a family, no matter how fragile or crumbling it felt like it was at the moment. He truly didn’t deserve the blessing that she was to him. A point made all too obvious by the gun in his face.

“Since she didn’t tell me, I am gonna tell you this. That kid’s gonna call me and Sam. Every single night. I don’t hear from her in twenty-four hours, I’ll track you down and find out why. She gives me so much as a hint that you’ve done something to her again, I will snatch her away from you so fast it’ll make your head spin. Dean, you got a problem with that?” Bobby asked.

“No sir.”

“Your ass is gonna stay right here. If I ain’t convinced in a week and a half that you’ve learned your lesson, she starts school right here.” Bobby said, earning a somber nod from John. “And if you ever hurt her again, I will fill your ass so full of holes with this gun I’ll be able to use you to strain pasta. Catch my drift?”

“I got it, Bobby.” John said, hands in the air in surrender. “I got it, I do.”   
Bobby held his stare for a few more seconds, before pulling the gun away. “Make sure you do.”

 


End file.
